The governments of the world have united,
acting upfront but they’ve really gone underground,
implementing a behind-the-scenes scheme
to defraud the global-people
of their money & sovereignty.

While we battle semantics, terrorist & drugs,
it’s business as usual for the real thugs,
who keep filling our pockets with gizmos
like I-Pods & I-Pads & tablets,
modern technologies
making our life’s simpler,
draining us of our hearts & souls,
forcing us to write about what’s missing
in this universe of abundance,
stolen by the greed-mongers.

I love you kindred spirits,
because you understand
these reasons for such emptiness,
this destruction of sacred spirit.

While others talk about it & do nothing,
you bleed your hearts & write about it,
trying to save a smidgeon of humanity
gone sterile.

You are more true
than any government on Earth,
you are a secret society of scribblers,
telling the truth.

There's a place I go,
it's hidden in between
the verses & stanzas,
painted in my heartfelt-words
oozes from my deeper-self,
the one I'm trying to touch.

And on this incessant
quest for reason,
the journey for complex explanations,
I find I'm not do different after all.

It's so very simple.

For the astral plane
seems full
of similarities,
loneliness,
broken dreams,
cracked skulls & broken hearts.

Thus, our search shall continue,
it will always be penned &
we will always
be in *******
to love,
one way
or another,
we know it.

We were the perfect couple,
the master poets wrote about us,
more than a few books were written,
novels.

Then we got lost,
disappeared in time
& you forgot,
me.

O to hold you,
to kiss you,
to hear the beat of your precious heart,
again

O do you feel me Darling,
do you remember,
you called me your champion,
once.

I was beautiful once,
had my magic dreams
& my share of troubles.
I swallowed pain,
sifted through the rubble,
got stained,
tainted by the man,
even been ****** around
by the elite.

I've been drunk on my feet,
indulged in lots of illicit things,
like large doses
of heavy drugs,
***** *** &
petty crime.

I've dreamt of rebellion,
vindication & revenge,
sometimes exposed some
bad tendencies,
but despite all the slights,
all my misfortune & fights,
one thing is for certain,
I haven't found
any good excuse
to become a stone cold
****** killer,
not a single one.

I’m an instinctive-intelligent-animal.
I come from a lost warrior-class.
I don’t need to run with the pack.
I make my own way.

I can read a map.
I can use any compass.
I can dead reckon.
I can follow the stars.
I know the constellations.
I can tell time without a watch.
I can read the weather.
I know the four directions.

I can evade.
I can keep myself from
human or canine-detection.
I can build shelters from any material
& if needed, I know how to camouflage them.
I can manufacture traps & snares
& skin & trim the animals I catch.
Fishing & wild game are mine,
whenever I want to eat them.
Bugs are not too bad either,
I’ve eaten several species.

I can manufacture water.
I can swim in water.
I can make a life preserver out of my pants.
I can carry you on my back for distance.
I can make beef jerky and rabbit stew.
I know about berries and slugs.
I know which plants are edible and which aren’t.
I can treat a snake bite.
I know how to set a broken leg & treat shock.
I can sew stitches on human skin & pull human teeth.
I can make a fire from scratch, even in rain.
I know about fire pistons.
I can get lost or I can be found,
distress-signals are my specialty.

I can track other animals or humans.
If you knew my martial skills,
you’d never leave my side.
I can use modern or make primitive weapons.
I know how to use the primitive weapons I make.
I can manufacture body heat.

My mind is stable.
I believe in the sacred.
I know how to endure physical activities for
extended periods of time in adverse conditions.
I know about jungles.
I know about deserts.
I know about forests.
I know about the tundra.

Oh, I am sure you can make it in your own too.

But,
when the lights go out for good,
when the **** really hits the fan,
when the Apocalypse finally comes,
who would you want to be with,
the ravenous pack or with me?

Go ahead,
take some time
to think about it.
Just remember Grasshopper,
I can be the pack’s worst enemy.
They will never see me coming……

I spent my nights
on the sharpest edges,
imbibed supernatural fixes
to break ice,
make things seem better,
feel all nice.

On Kashmiri-tempo,
I looked for a cowgirl
in the sand with every day
one of intense celebration.
Bad to the bone was
the motto of logical songs.
Dust in the wind
& free birds never lied,
I cried in the cane break,
zig zagged through ghostland,
lived in
the twilight zone,
a young Turk
in love with radar,
alone on
Heaven's stairway.

I sauntered up
to the carved mahogany
& ordered whiskey,
two shots straight up.

Outside the sun
melted tarmac,
saquaros
bore silent witness,
a million
miles from home.

I was mesmerized
by the toothless grin
of the tender,
deep ruts in his face.
his mystical eyes.

And I wondered
about the stories
he could tell,
if he ever wretched
on buttons
or traveled
the Milky Way
flying as a crow.

The blasts tasted delicious
burning my mouth
& enjoying
the cosmic
ethanol-moment,
I forgot about
such fleeting thoughts
at my sudden stop
along the lonely
stretch of highway.

Words can only do so much,
they can stimulate the mind,
but I want to feel real.

I crave your skin on my skin,
I need to hear you whisper
secrets in my ear,
I will free-flow
my own dreams
deep inside into you,
let's taste
our sacred mixture
run
     down
my rosy-cheeks,
while you kiss me.

That would suffice!

I admit,
I'm naughty
& I'm nice,
too.

I just knew
it was the bandana that did it
& not my rugged-ways.
I take the full blame,
it was not your twinkling eyes,
nor the soft kisses you gave me
up & down
my aching body.

Your lovely pert *******
made no difference
& the way you held
me did not matter,
'cause someday
I just knew,
you might scatter.

The fresh fragrance
of your flawless skin
was of no consequence
& your sweet taste
was no big thrill.

O yes Lil' Darling
I do confess,
you did steal my heart,
you killed me
with your lady-finesse,
but I just knew,
if I could blame it
on my paisley scarf,
it would make it easier
when you left.

Lord knows,
how much
I miss you.

I miss the rumble of our tracks,
we were like the thunder,
rolling over the endless dunes,
it's a tune you never forget,
stays hidden
deep inside,
like the oldies.

O sweet girl,
you lie so seductively,
teasing,
teasing me to no end.
You push,
you pull,
every single night,
you spread things
open to my delight.

O sweet girl,
you have some serious-magic,
you're a classic lady,
your moves & thighs,
your pretty-gorgeous-eyes
& heaving *******
drive me freaking-delirious,
you constantly
put me to the
passionate-test.

O sweet girl,
I must confess,
you are a delicious pearl,
please,
let me shuck you
tenderly,
savor your fluffy treasure,
play with a feather,
I can give you the
ultimate pleasure.

O sweet girl,
guide me,
take me deep
into your vise,
make me work
for your satisfaction,
hold me tight,
I promise not to fight.

O sweet darling,
it's much much more
than just a physical attraction,
it's a pheromone reaction,
hot-action made in Heaven,
******,
not neurotic.

You
were raised
on diesel fuel,
coal dust & corn liquor,
inhaled gnats by the ton.

I
want
you to spit in my mouth,
to taste your toxicology,
to absorb your proteins
& dirt.

Wearily
I trudge
over endless dunes,
riding this single ****
on relentless trails.
I hold close to my heart
beautiful visions
of your sparkling
crystalline-eyes.
They drive me to you.
I follow the stars above
to your gentle touch,
the blessing
you give me.
And I am thankful
for your kiss(es),
to be between
your sweet thighs,
soon.

Vlad was not a happy man.
In fact,
he was so unhappy,
so full of rage,
he impaled
just about everybody
he met.

I love to spread
my plum sauce
on your
**** nectarines,
mix it up,
sift
& fold,
then taste
the hot-combination
of our zesty ingredients.

Such bold
raw-flavors
never grow old.
I am sold on the menu
& crave your appetite,
you are a connoisseur,
demure,
soft & pretty.

Me & you
never fight the menu,
our culinary arts
are exquisite
& delicious,
so scrumptious,
they're sacred,
obviously
made in Heaven.

I remember you,
I remember you in a state,
a state of total nirvana.
You lay trembling
in a universe far away,
and I connected your dots
with tender kisses,
every single freckle
was a different galaxy.
And I was discovering
the big bang theory
with you,
the meaning of
quantum physics,
explosiveness
deep inside,
way deep inside,
your sweet lovely portal.

I have bricks to lay,
I can't stay here forever.

O Dear Lady do you!
Do you desire me so,
do you long to feel
my gentle fingers
swirling, swirling
in between
the soft folds
of your fiery-mind,
touching your vivid imaginations,
you exposed & us so intimate,
your open heart exploding
for only me to feel,
do you see me?

We had heard about the big steel-beasts.
For weeks, vicious rumors had spread
like wildfire across the steppes.
Nothing was safe in their path.
They left death and destruction,
thousands of deflowered
women & girls
in their wake.

Late last night,
we heard the clanking,
felt the rumbling,
the shattering of earth
outside the city skirts,
then dead quiet, nothing,
not a single sound.

Early this morning,
Svetlana stumbled-delirious,
dazed toward the center of town.
Blackened eyes & missing teeth
adorned her bruised face,
dried blood-lines faded
from the corners of her mouth.
It appeared as if her jaw was broken,
vacancy was written in her eyes.
A crimson stain on her torn skirt
marked  the cleft between her legs.
A ******* arm band
hung around her neck.
She didn't say a word.

We heard the clanking again,
felt he rumbling,
the shattering of earth
as the Tigers left our village.
And by the way Svetlana looked,
quickly realized the rumors were true.

All the good times I've had
happened when
I was wearing a red bandana.
It didn't matter where I was at,
sleepy towns,
ice cream shops,
near rivers or
on even mountaintops,
if I had my handkerchief on,
things were gonna be a-okay.

Love is a beautiful thing,
it's more beautiful
when your sigother
wears her own red bandana,
all through the night,
you can dance on paisley-stars.

Dark shadows circled my nest
on the ridgeline that
spooky winter night.
All I could see
was the moonglow
sifting through my misty breath,
glinting off my suppressor.
Icy winds whipped
up through the valley
to kiss my bearded face
& freeze my teardrops.
I thanked God for my pakol
and woolen fingerless gloves.
The fibers kept me warm
under the blanket of stars.
Not a cloud,
nor a single wisp
could I see against the pitch.
I had the itch to pop off a round
on a falling pebble.
But to do so,
might have meant certain death.
The area was crawling with bad guys,
insurgents looking for heads.

This shady-bar
gave you more ***** than mixer,
cheap spirits & rot gut elixirs flowed,
some did lines of flake on the teak.
By eight, most dates were sloppy drunk,
buzzed, frazzled to the gills,
schmoozing the feline-walk,
talking ****, listening to
Floyd or Skynyrd.
It was a circus of sorts.

Back in those days
we called the cops 'fuzz',
they'd make their rounds
every couple of hours,
it made it look like they were
using tax-dollars wisely,
but we students knew better,
******* establishment.

The parking lot was a mix
of racetrack & boxing ring.
Cars jammed, roared,
cruised, honked
their way
through the fistfights.

Once, I saw two sweet-babes,
real rough-cats scratch and claw
themselves to near death.
The flowered-blouse
on one was ripped clean off,
one of her ***** hung out,
it looked bruised.
Blood streamed down
both of their faces,
ruining their mascara.

When I look back,
it's quite amazing
any of us survived
that freaking place.
Now come to think of it,
the last time
I saw my buddy Marcus
was outside that
nasty-drinking-establishment.
He was ******* amongst
the drunks & excrement.
I really wonder how he survived,
if he made it out of that city
in one piece,
alive.

Lovely New Year morn!
I still hear firecrackers!
Give it a rest boys!

It's that first kiss,
that first touch
of bare skin,
the first taste
of raw honey
that seals our fate.

Once smitten,
bitten by the lust-bug,
one is never the same again.

We can cry about broken hearts,
the agony of rejection,
all the pain we've had to endure,
but we can never deny
the reality of the physicality
derived from such
pure primal pleasure,
never.

Hot summer days & pop-up campers,
Dad with his chef hat
& Mum's lemonade.
We didn't even know it,
had it made in the shade.
Red checkerboard &
picnic chairs,
burgers & chips &
& big sister's
sweet oatmeal cookies.
Blow-up pool dragons
lay at our feet,
life was so idyllic,
& it ain't never coming back.
Makes me sick.

She winked in her cute little bandana,
was standing strategically by the keg,
dressed non-discreetly in
a very **** skimpy-bikini.
The curls that wrapped
around her drop-dead beautiful face
accentuated her high striking cheekbones.
Her lips moved in slow motion,
the tip every now and then
licking the edges of her pretty mouth.
We made small talk about
the weather and current songs.
She kept telling me how handsome I was,
her striking-eyes seemed believable,
but I remained guarded,
I had heard those lines before.

The stars began to emerge as the sun sunk
lower and she wondered if I wanted to walk
with her, down to the edge of the ocean.
The beer had me feeling more relaxed
and I took her up on her offer.
Down we walked, slowly to the water's edge,
she taking my hand,
telling me how strong my grip was.
It seemed like we walked forever,
but before too long, we were out of earshot of the band, the party was just a blip on the horizon.
We looked to face one another,
it felt surreal, she made me feel stellar,
like we were having fun.

The moment was ripe, I dipped her hair away
from her full lips, placing mine on top of hers,
our tongues met, my heart melted.
There was a stirring below, a hardness
found by her searching hands.
As if on cue, she descended,
unzipped my jeans rather quickly,
took me fully into her mouth.
She seemed expert, it was glorious,
my eyes rolled back in my head,
I squirted into her closed mouth,
wrapped around her prize.
She stood up, kissed me on my quivering lips,
told me I was exquisite,
the best she ever had,
& I believed her.

We walked back slowly,
my arm around her slender shoulder,
talked about the future.
When we arrived back at the bonfire,
things had heated up, the music was cranked,
people were dancing like they had drank too much.
She told she wanted to freshen up, asked me if I wanted a beer, I answered her affirmatively and
off she went, back into the raucous crowd,
in the direction of the keg.

She never came back, I never saw her again,
I never even got her name or number.
I felt used, a bit heartbroken.
I think she just wanted to **** me,
then let me go free for personal reasons.
It seemed rather one-sided,
I was hoping we confide in each other.
Strange how that happens both ways sometimes.

I can write you
the sexiest ditty
in the world,
create sensual imagery
beyond your wildest dreams
& I do mean,
your wildest dreams.

But sadly
that's about
all I'll ever be able to do,
unless.....unless...

O darling,
if I could
hear you scream,
I'd pen an epic!

When my empty bed whispers
& my room smells primordial,
I am always open
to remedial training,
other ways to see the light,
to succumb to the fight.

It's times like these
when one considers
throwing in the towel,
letting your guard down
to get loose & open up
to new experiences,
electric ones.

You buy the finest clothing
& know how to pick
the latest,
the greatest fashions.
Your selection of lace *******
is superb,
such sweet lingerie.
The black see-thrus
with the tiny red bows,
is nothing short of sacred.
Delicious.

I see skyscrapers on the horizon
& neon reflections
& you're not here.
What is this place,
where sunlight sparkles,
kisses the underside of my lids.
But it's not a home without you Darling,
just a place of brokenhearted sadness
& tearful rain.
Lord, I miss you.

I saw the twin towers tumble
on the back of a bus.
And that toothy evil-grin
pointing the way.
And it seemed,
it seemed
the people bowed
in reverance.
I was definitely
not in Kansas anymore.

It is peaceful here
in the meadow
outside your gate,
the zebras gather
& float between the ferns,
hues of jade & malachite.
I hear the lone Nightingale
deep in the bush
a **** does crow
& I am spellbound,
held breathless
by your nakedness,
my vision.

I want to trace
your lips
with a feather
and kiss them right,
take flight,
and never land
without you.

When I first saw her
cruise into the health food store,
I immediately thought of Camelot
and all those visions of chivalry.
But at the checkout line,
she was rough.
I mean,
mean,
like really ******,
treated the cashier
like dirt,
as if she were
all high and mighty.
I'm not sure what she's been through,
but it really doesn't matter,
she's afflicted with something
chivalry can't cure,
like the lack of a kind heart.
I'd rather date a friendly camel
with no humps,
I'm sure it wouldn't mind
a few manners.

O Sweetheart,
I would brave
a thousand oceans,
weather the
fiercest storms
& summit stone-age ice,
just to be
with you.

O Darling,
I am warm to the touch
& lie here alone,
thinking,
thinking of love
& you lying there,
surrounded
by your soft
pretty hair,
so nice.

O Dear Lady
my passion,
if you,
if you only knew.

A crisscross breeze
nips
me
gently.

I can see the way,
clearly
they have come
for my resurrection.

Under twinkling stars,
the incense swirls,
its glow tip smoldering
into the heavens.

And here mortal,
I sing sacred songs
& spirit-drummers chant
while the ancients
ghost dance.

The moving pistons,
such massive horsepower,
his cc's are tipping the scales,
those valves & rods are clicking,
revving rpm's to supersonic speeds,
spewing emissions to the
shifting gears of love.

It was classic,
just like Delphi said it would be.
Bright lights
(I mean bright),
yellow walls
(shades of *****),
a low hum
(in the bass range).
Mister Suit
sporting a razor-thin mustache
sat stoic at a long black table
carrying a wry grin,
his eyes shades of pitch.
They unshackled me,
hands pushed me down
into a chrome chair
with a firm red leather cushion.
Screams came through the wall
from the room next to us.
I sat there just as stoic
across from him
with a wry smile
of my own.
It felt like a scene
from a stereotypical sci-fi flic,
it wasn't though.
This was as real as it gets,
these guys meant business.
Guys like me were trouble
for the Control Boys.
They'd find out soon
I wasn't a pushover.

The monkey rode her back constantly,
a skilled jockey,
it watched her down cheap *****
until she no longer existed
in a clear state.
That's when the critter got heavy,
and her,
in a stupor,
could not shake that hairy devil.
It was hard to watch
her die that way.

Thinking of you,
I push your lace to the side
& thump to the beat
of a different drummer,
but still,
my motion
is methodical
& deliberate,
somewhere between
rock and roll and jazz.
Can you feel my beat
doll face?

How can one describe
these hot-pheromones
flowing wildly in space?

Without the genetic code,
the scent-nature of animal attraction,
can these electrical-keyboard
love-lust-connections really work?

Word-whisperings flow like an avalanche,
such heated-moments visualized
through the placement of the alphabet.

The ooooohhhhhh's & aaaaahhhhh's,
do me's & give it to me's,
building of fiery sentence-structures,
creates raptures beyond our wildest dreams.

Then the aftermath.
No hugs, no kisses.
A virtual wham bam, thank you mam
& a good day to you too sir,
I'll write you next time!

;;), :), ^^, --, 3:), :D, ;P, :-P, :)..., 0:), :x, B-),:-*, 69,=), >:)<.

O, I'm sure I missed a few!
O Darling, please please let me know...I'll text you...:-?

If I had a dollar for every poem I ever wrote,
I wouldn’t even have a grand.
How on Earth would I pay the monthly rent,
buy our food,
survive
darling?

I guess a goat & a yurt
doesn’t sound so bad after all.
We could start a garden,
grow some tomatoes & drink
fresh unpasteurized raw milk,
We could even make soap.
Fixin’ a hole in the ceiling would
just take a needle and thread.
What a simple life we’d lead,
we could actually talk to each other.

And in the winter,
we could spoon,
snuggle underneath
a real buffalo rug.
It would be groovy.
You could tug on my ear lobe
with your pretty teeth
& whisper how much
you loved me.

The skill of the poetic linguist
is measured by
the reaction of the reader,
how they make them feel.

The use of tender,
imaginative-words
pushed gently from one side
of the written-line to the other
can create the desired effect.

Configuring
carefully-crafted stanzas,
& placing them
strategically
up & down
can sometimes elicit
the most reading pleasure.

Finding
the secret-sensitivities
of the heart can be tricky,
the most daunting of tasks,
but the skilled poetic linguist
can always find a way
it seems,
to create those
beautiful,
sensuous,
fiery-emotions.

And if you can find one,
just ask them
how it's done.
They are more than likely
ready,
willing & able,
to pen you a verse or two.
And perhaps,
maybe more.

I trace your outline
alone in the dark,
imagine
your sweet
feminine form
lying beside me,
every part of me
is on fire,
you burn
the same desire.

We move melodic,
locked in unison to
the beat of Kashmir.
I feel your temperature rise
as I move behind &
between your thighs.
Your closed eyes
speaks volumes,
it's the sweetest music
to my ears.

Strange, how
my fiery-imagination
leads to such
a succulent conclusion.
I free flow
molten lava
explosively into you,
images of me grasping
your thick hair
as you sigh
with mutual satisfaction.
I am drenched in
the dreams I have of you.

I got the rock tunes
blaring
loudly
down at the
Dairy Queen
& we’re ******* off.

I fell in love
with her banana split,
the whipped cream
& the bushes.
So she jacked me.

And now
I’m infatuated
with fast food desserts
& her fast car.
Barracuda Barracuda.
A 426 hemi.

Bamboo creaked
as the gentle breezes
licked us.

I swayed into
your split kimono,
the beautiful sound
of happy songbirds
hid our muffled sighs,
me bleeding fine silk
into your warm thighs.

With our eyes clenched,
we giggled,
listening
to nightingales
singing softly
along the babbling brook.

Spinning endlessly
opening spiritual signs
I feel like the Hajj

Ross was good,
Part-Choctaw, Part-Saskatchewan,
he'd sniff the air for his direction,
could spot a pebble out of place,
understand broken twigs.

He loved to work at night,
backtracking was a skill,
garroting his specialty,
he had fourteen dings.

Part-Celt, Part-Heinz-57
I understood similar things,
my notches stand
at just under ten.

Okay,
so the streets are mean out there,
out there in the jungle,
the only jungle you've ever known.
Street hustlers & pimps,
neon fuzzies
& sirens.
Motorino pizza.
No place like home,
okay.

I downloaded Weatherbug
into my cell phone
then added a thousand exotic places
into the program.

Every chance I get,
I click onto another place
& visualize
what it'd be like
to be there
& not here,
I dream.